Operation: Make Quatre a Guy!
by Memoria In Piscis Crusta
Summary: When in a fit of boredom Duo decides Quatre has problems expressing his masculinity, will Quatre escape Duo's tender mercies intact? Will his wardrobe?
1. Chapter 1

**Operation: Make Quatre a Guy! 1/3**

Quatre Winner blinked up at his best friend, comrade-in-arms, brother-in-all-but-name, the guy currently (but not always) known as Duo Maxwell. Hesitantly, he smiled; it was hard not to, when Duo beamed so manically at him, violet eyes sparkling with the vibrancy of a thousand suns. Quatre looked back down at the manila folder Duo had thrown at him only seconds before, its printed title stating: 'MISSION PARAMETERS OF OPERATION: MAKE QUATRE A GUY'. "But Duo," he protested. "I _am_ a guy."

Duo shook his head emphatically, saying, "Quat, man, I love ya – but no guy takes more than an hour in the bathroom unless he's got serious plumbing problems, and I know you eat bran cereal for breakfast." He leaned forward, face tilted to Quatre's, braid thumping over his shoulder to hit his chest. Quatre leaned backwards in response. "Trust me. Everything'll be fine."

For all that Quatre had fought in wars (two), battled in the boardroom (his father's), and faced down numerous big sisters (twenty-nine) – the determined look on Duo's face sent a shivery tingle of fear down his spine. Somehow, this would all end in disaster. And, possibly, silly string. When Duo got involved, things inevitably did.

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If Quatre had any hope of keeping his sanity throughout Duo's odd, bizarre, totally un-needed quest to 'guy-ify' him (really, Quatre was plenty manly. If you squinted), it was dashed when he walked into the living room to see Heero Yuy and Chang Wufei on the couch, both with familiar manila folders open on their laps.

A sinking feeling deep in his stomach, Quatre said, "He got to you already, didn't he."

"If you mean Hurricane Maxwell, you'd be correct," Wufei smirked without looking up. "Better you being his newest project than me – you should have heard his rantings on 'removing the stick up my ass' at the last reunion."

All former Gundam pilots were required, after having undergone extensive psychiatric counseling, to meet up four times yearly with one another to 'blow off steam'. It was widely recognized that hanging out with one's peer group acted as a destressor, and if there were any group the world did not need stressed out, it was that of the former Gundam pilots. Seeing as they had no other peers (for how many others had balanced terrorism and schoolwork at the tender age of fifteen?), they were stuck with one another, their other options being years ofpsychoanalysis with possible shock therapy (definite shock therapy, in Duo's case) or lobotomy (Sally Po swore that Lady Une was just joking when she mentioned that last one…).

"Count yourself lucky," Wufei continued. "You only have to deal with it for a weekend. I'm **partners** with the idiot – there was no escaping him for _months_."

Quatre shuddered, and then turned desperately to Heero. "Heero? Do you think you could talk him out of this?" Of all of them, Heero remained the only one capable of reining in Duo's behaviour. It might have been his habit of drawing his gun and playing 'Target Practice' when Duo got too annoying.

Heero didn't look up from the folder. He grunted, "Hn," and then said, "I think it's a good idea."

For a moment, Quatre's heart stopped beating. The world dimmed down to hazy gray vision and his deep, shallow breaths threatened to verge on hyperventilation. "Excuse me," he said, when the universe tilted back into focus. "I thought I just heard you say something of Duo's is a good idea."

"It's been known to happen," Heero said solemnly. His dark blue eyes were serious as they stared at Quatre, but his lips gave a small quirk as he added, "Rarely." He flipped the folder shut, folded his hands over top of it, looking every inch a competent and confident businessman, and stated, "Let Duo do this. He'll leave the rest of us alone and you might get something out of it."

"Yeah… an ulcer," Quatre muttered. He mustered up a weak smile. If Heero thought it a good idea, then, maybe… Well, maybe he could give it a shot.

And it was that attitude that led him to be walking through the mall two hours later, wearing full drag complete with underwear and makeup, a grinning Duo at his side and a hysterical Wufei behind him.

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It was after the fifth wolf-whistle that Quatre snapped. He stalked up to the body-builder who'd given it, growling, and yanked the six foot six inches muscle-man down to his five foot eight inches (in heels) height. "Don't. Whistle. At. Me."

The body-builder grinned lazily, reached down and squeezed Quatre's ass with a leisurely hand. "Ah, sweetcheeks, I can't help it if you're hot."

The resulting violence was graphic. Quatre was demure and polite when the police arrived (ten minutes before the ambulance, which spoke volumes about the city's crime rate), and the officers refused to believe such a "tiny thing" could have reduced three hundred and twelve pounds of man to so much pulverized meat. Duo and Wufei were eyeballed suspiciously, but in the end all three were allowed to walk away without comment.

While stomping in the direction of the car, Quatre said angrily, "I thought you were trying to make me a _guy_, Duo, not a transvestite."

"This whole exercise just proves my point," Duo said soothingly if smugly. "You're way too convincing as a girl. You could get away with it when we were younger since, y'know, people that it was so _cute_ that you had big blue eyes and bright yellow hair and the best posture money could buy – but cute turns to effeminate, and effeminate's just another way to say 'girly' without starting an international incident. You didn't really believe me before since you've got all those sisters still cooing over you, but it's true. Most people looking at you can't tell if you're one way or the other unless they place it in context with the clothes… which that guy you just pounded did, wrongly."

Quatre frowned, but this time thoughtfully. "You may have a point," he conceded grudgingly. He scrubbed at his face in irritation. "Nevertheless, I _really_ want to wash this stuff off and change out of this outfit. You have no idea how much under-wire digs in."

* * *

**Next time on 'Operation: Make Quatre a Guy!' - **Trowa remains mysteriously absent, Relena makes an (annoying) appearance, and Quatre's guy-hood is put to the test! Stay tuned!

A brief author's note: This little mini-series is written in part as a response to the wonderful reviews received for an earlier short-short fanfic entitled '_The Border Between Strange and Deranged_', also about Quatre's exceeding girliness. It is intended as a piece of humour and perhaps as aparody of all the skewed fanon versions of Quatre out there. But lastly, and most importantly, it is a gift tribute to the other half of this writing duo for her impending birthday! The countdown begins today!


	2. Chapter 2

**Operation: Make Quatre a Guy! 2/3**

Quatre scowled at his closed door. Duo was on the other side of it, rooting around in his closet and leaving him to sulk out in the hall. "I'm updating your wardrobe, Quat," Duo had stated with an irrepressible grin and a braid that moved like a cat's tail twitching. "Noteveryone has their sisters dress them after age five, after all, and contrary to your apparent belief, pink is _not_ a colour that screams 'I'm a guy.' Actually, it kind of says the opposite."That had been two and half hours ago.

Sighing,Quatre finally gave into the realization that simply glaring at the door separating his hands from Duo's neck wouldn't make Duo die any faster. He gave it one last mournful glance before heading downstairs to where, hopefully, the other ex-pilots would provide enough distraction to keep him from committing justifiable homicide. They were both of them set up in the kitchen, Wufei putting together a late lunch and Heero industriously breaking into the Preventors' bank accounts. "For practice," he said, smirking, when asked; but always mysteriously after he'd gone on a hacking spree, Duo and Wufei called him with various annoyed messages about ridiculous budget cuts leading to shortages (up to, and including, bullets, toilet paper, and handcuffs) (also, paperclips).

Quatre sulked at the kitchen table for a few moments, wondering idly where Trowa was – he was supposed to have arrived yesterday, same as the three other pilots who always chose Quatre's house as the meeting place (since no one wanted to squeeze into either of Duo or Wufei's tiny apartments, nor risk death by mauling at Trowa's where he slept with the lions, and not one of them wanted to know where Heero lived). Quatre couldn't help but think that if Trowa were around, all of Duo's insanity would have come to an end and they could have had _fun_ hanging out instead of Quatre being miserable, Duo hyper, Heero amused, and Wufei hysterical.

It was while lost in these types of thoughts that Quatre could hear at the door a sharp, persistent, rap-tap-tapping; could hear the shrill, "Heeeeeeeeeero! I know you're in there – Une told me so!"

More than the voice, more than the tone – Heero's wide eyes and exit from the kitchen at a speedy blur, delayed only as long as necessary to gather his laptop in his arms, told Quatre who had just come for a visit.

Oh, Allah. It was Relena.

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"This is _perfect_," Duo said, arms full of Quatre's clothes, beaming. "I couldn't have planned it better myself!"

Quatre blinked. "Excuse me. You're _happy_ that Relena 'Everything Perfect is Pink' Peacecraft is here. Relena."

Duo rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. It's the best way to mark your current position! You _did_ do your proper host thing, right, and ask her to stay?"

"Well, yes," Quatre shifted uncomfortably; he could feel Heero's death glare all the while as he invited Relena to stay the night since his safehouse – er, mansion – was located so far away from the nearest city and Relena had already sent away her taxi. He anticipated a few murder attempts on him in the future as Heero made his displeasure known. "But what does that have it do with it?"

Duo smiled. It was a nice smile, wide and joyous. Dread tingled up Quatre's spine. "You're going to seduce her tonight!"

It took around fifteen minutes for Quatre to remember how to breathe. Gasping, he stuttered, "You – You're _crazy_!", to which Duo replied, "Well, yes, that is true."

"I can't seduce Relena," Quatre said desperately. "She's… she's… she's _Relena_!"

"Yes?"

Oh no, that voice hadn't just come from behind him. Fate wasn't so cruel. Except, turning around, Quatre discovered that it really, really was, because there was Relena with a quizzical look on her girlish face, Wufei distastefully holding her bags beside her.

"Did you want something, Quatre?"

"Uh. Um." He couldn't come up with words to speak, running through his mind on repeat Duo's stated, _'You're going to seduce her… you're going to seduce her…'_ Relena reached out with one concerned hand and Quatre leapt backwards. Panicked, he yelped, "I don't want to do it!" and ran away.

He darted into the closest room he could find – the linen closet – only to find it already occupied. Heero glared at him from behind his laptop screen and looked about to say something scathing when they both heard three sets of footsteps running past, Relena worriedly calling out, "Quatre? Quatre, what's wrong?" Heero's eyes widened comically to take over half his face, and Quatre was sure his must have looked much the same. They held their breaths in stifled fear, releasing them only after they were certain the danger (ie: Relena) was past.

Heero cocked his eyebrow and asked quietly, "Why hide from her when you're the one to invite her?"

Just as quietly Quatre replied, "Duo."

"Ah."

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Quatre was a born diplomat, a master strategist, able to manipulate people and situations on a global scale. Duo was… well, he was Duo. And that was more than enough to get Quatre into a suit (not lavender or pink like the ones Fatima – his eighth oldest sister – had picked out, but classic black with a white undershirt and no tie) and escorting Relena (herself dressed in a silky pink slip-like dress that fell to mid-thigh) down to a semi-formal dinner.

They weren't the only ones at the dining table that night, because that would be too obvious and suspicious and the whole plan was for Quatre to charm Relena into kissing him without her having a clue about what was going on. If he could manage to do that, Duo promised to leave Quatre alone about his manliness, which very nearly wasn't enough to get Quatre to agree to the whole mad, mad scheme. He finally capitulated from fear of what Duo would come up with next.

Relena seemed surprised when Quatre appeared at her door with a lone carnation in hand, but her blush upon receiving the flower was favourable and Quatre began to entertain hope that the night wouldn't be completely in vain. He offered her his arm and they walked down to the dining room together, making idle small talk that Quatre, after a lifetime of practice, was skilled at but truly despised. Relena seemed to delight in it.

At the table, Wufei was already sitting down. He'd been the one to cook, surprisingly competent in the kitchen; and dressed in the formal silks of his clan, he looked severely handsome. Duo had reverted to a stylized version of his war-time priest outfit that fit considerably better and opened widely at the throat, and had loosened his hair to fall in waves down his back. He held various dishes in his arms and beamed at Quatre and Relena as they came into view. Heero was nowhere in sight, unsurprisingly.

"Sit, sit," Duo invited; not caring that _Quatre_ was the supposed host, not him. "Dinner is served." He bowed lowly to them, and Relena giggled. At the sound, Duo sent a smug glance at Quatre, as if to say, 'See? That's how you do it.'

Not to be outdone, Quatre pulled out Relena's chair for her. Duo beamed proudly at him while Relena continued to blush, though her forehead acquired a few puzzled lines. Across from her Wufei smirked.

As dinner (baked salmon and potatoes plus a garden salad) progressed, Quatre found himself more and more at a loss. What did you do when you wanted to seduce someone? Well, he amended, casting a glance sideways at Relena, he didn't _want_ to seduce Relena – it was more like he lacked the option _not_ to, knowledge reinforced by the urging looks Duo cast him every few seconds.

Quatre bit his lip and felt sweat spring to his brow. He had no clue what to do next.

The rest of the evening loomed before him, imposing and impossible, and the only thing Quatre Winner knew with any certainty was that he _loathed_ Duo Maxwell.

* * *

One more day, Shrimpy! Oh, and, **Next on 'Operation: Make Quatre a Guy!': **Quatre doesn't get his kiss, Duo doesn't get his wish, and Heero misses out on the fish. Relena slaps someone and Trowa (finally!) makes an appearance. If you readers like this story, please drop a line saying "Happy Birthday" to Shrimpy as it's her birthday soon and it'd really really make her day! 


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy Birthday To You**

**Happy Birthday To You**

**Happy Birthday Dear Shrimpy,**

**Happy Birthday To You!**

...and now, for the conclusion of ...

**Operation: Make Quatre a Guy! 3/3**

It had been tense for a while, the ex-princess and the ex-terrorists struggling to find something to talk about. Remarkably, it had been Quatre to come across the one topic he had in common with Relena, and the relief of no longer worrying about what to say was enough to make him giddy. He nodded emphatically to what Relena had just said, saying, "I agree – personal hygiene is _so_ important, I can't believe how many people out there refuse to take care of themselves. Why, the Maguanacs didn't have the first clue about proper plucking procedure until they met me!"

"I was wondering why they all looked so neat despite all that excess facial hair!"

Relena and Quatre beamed at each other. Truly, it was so nice to be understood.

Across the table, Wufei and Duo goggled in amazement. Of all the possible outcomes for the evening, neither had anticipated _this_ one.

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Quatre hadn't got his kiss by the end of the night after all; at least, not the kind of kiss that Duo would find acceptable as proof of his 'manliness'. It had been a simple peck on his cheek as Relena said, "It's been so nice talking with you, Quatre – I feel as if we have a real connection, and hanging out with you is just like hanging out with my girlfriends back home. We _have_ to do it again sometime!"

And Quatre had weakly nodded. Damn – he knew that Duo had somehow managed to hear the last bit in that uncanny way of his. Sighing, he made his way back to the linen closet. Hopefully, at least there Duo wouldn't be able to find him – and, consequently, wouldn't be able to rope him into some other insane 'mission'.

Except Heero was still in the linen closet when Quatre trudged in, and glared up at Quatre angrily. "She's still here."

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Of course she is, Heero. I invited her to stay the night. It's still, currently, night. You really have to get over your Relena-phobia some time soon."

"Hn." Heero shuddered. "She's unstable. No sane person runs after someone who threatens to kill them once every quarter hour."

"That may be so," Quatre quietly agreed. "Nonetheless, she won't stop chasing you until you can tell her why you're not interested in her and I believe she'll just continue to take 'I will kill you' as a term of endearment without clarification." He slid to the ground next to Heero with a sigh. "I only wish it were as easy with Duo…"

Heero snorted. "It is. He's taken up each of us as projects before, even you without your knowing it. Last year, he decided I needed to 'come out of my shell and have some fun.' I threatened to disembowel him with my spoon and he left me alone."

"Huh." Quatre looked thoughtful. "That doesn't sound like him, not really. He's too persistent to be deterred by threats of death."

"Especially when he considers _himself_ death," Heero added wryly. "And now that you mention it, it did seem odd that he backed off so quickly."

Quatre frowned. "Last year… wasn't that about the time when the Preventors called you in on a special case and you got sent to ballroom dancing classes in an attempt to infiltrate a drug-smuggling ring? And then it turned out that the reports of drug-smuggling were totally unfounded, but only after you'd gone through the entire program?"

Heero blinked. "Yes…"

"Wow. Duo is one sneaky bastard."

When Quatre next looked over at Heero's face, he saw a consternated expression there; and, briefly, he smiled.

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Morning saw Relena's departure though she was disappointed that apparently Heero had skipped out on the reunion. Watching her taxi drive away, Quatre commented to a Heero crouching behind the front door, "Avoiding her will come back at you, you know. If Sally Po or Lady Une hears from Relena that you've been supposedly skipping meetings, they'll haul you in for more psychiatric counseling."

Hidden as he was, Quatre could still hear Heero's smirk through his voice. "That's assuming they can find me."

"If they're so easy to avoid, why bother coming to these reunions at all?" Quatre asked curiously. There was only a deep silence in answer, and Quatre flushed as he realized why. "Oh."

"Hn," Heero replied, and walked away.

Quatre stared after his retreating figure, lost in thought. It was true that none of them could really be constrained by the government. If any of them truly wished to disappear, completely and without a trace, it would be done. It might be harder for Quatre himself, given his extensive family and global public figure status, but it was still possible. They only stayed in the public eye because they wanted to – they only submitted to these constraints because they wanted to – they only showed up to the reunions because they _wanted to_, and this conscious realization of what Quatre had known unconsciously from the beginning made him glow warmly in his chest.

It was nice to know he had true friends.

Then Duo bounded up behind him, threw an arm over his shoulder and said into his ear, "Today's the next phase of making you into a guy, Quat!" and Quatre quickly changed his sentiment.

"This is ridiculous, Duo," he said. "I _am_ a guy. You _know_ I'm a guy. Just because I'm a particularly convincing cross-dresser _doesn't_ mean that I'm _not_ a guy!"

"Quatre. Buddy. You spent three hours talking about hair products last night. The girl you were supposed to seduce called you her 'girlfriend'. And – well, I wasn't going to say anything until later, but you know that lip balm you say your sister got you for the 'dry desert air'? It's lip gloss. Really. You've been wearing make up for god knows how long. You're not a guy."

"I _am_ a guy," Quatre wailed pathetically. "I _am_!"

"What's this all about?" a familiar low voice interjected from the open doorway, and Quatre almost sobbed in relief as he realized that Trowa – wonderful, calm, _sane_ Trowa was finally here.

Maybe now everything would begin to make sense again.

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"So you're trying to turn Quatre into a guy."

Trowa's voice, typically believed to be deadpan by those who barely knew him, held hints of incredulity that only the experienced could pick up. Duo beamed and nodded.

"Never mind the fact that Quatre _is_ a guy."

Duo blinked, and Quatre went mentally, 'Ah hah! Try to convince _Trowa_ that I'm not a guy!'

"Well," Duo said cautiously, "You have to admit that he's not that masculine."

"So says the guy with a braid down to his waist," Trowa pointed out with a faint smirk. Duo sputtered, and Quatre silently crowed in triumph.

"I – I keep my hair this long for a _reason_," Duo snapped defensively. "I'm one hundred percent guy!"

"Oh?" Trowa said mildly. "And to whom can you base your comparison? Who is your role model of being a guy?"

"Uh…" Duo faltered. "Well. There was Solo…" he chewed his lower lip. "But then he kind of died before hitting puberty, so I guess he doesn't really count… Um. Father Maxwell?"

"He was a priest," Trowa pointed out, "So I think that if he tried to do what you seem convinced is a guy-like thing to do – namely, seduction – he would have been expelled from the church."

"Huh. Well, there was G! And Howie!"

"Two old men more interested in machines and the war than anything else," Trowa said. He smiled lightly. "I'm beginning to think it's not Quatre with the misconceptions about what being a guy is all about."

Duo sputtered. Quatre grinned.

Things were looking up.

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**Epilogue:**

"I am _not_ doing this!"

"You made me do it. Turnabout is fair play, _Duet_."

"Dammit, I get it, okay? I'm a girly-guy too! I'm not in denial anymore. I don't _need_ to go through all this to prove that to me!"

"I think you really, really do. Now come on, let's see how many guys we can get to whistle at you."

"Arrrrrrgh!"


End file.
